


Sleep of the Just

by crazylittleelf



Series: Ways and Means [26]
Category: Fringe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Sleep, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-17
Updated: 2009-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazylittleelf/pseuds/crazylittleelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has trouble sleeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep of the Just

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Detox. Set when they're 28-ish.

Bleak. It was, he thought, a good word. Rather, an appropriate one given the expressions of the operatives around the conference table. Even the table was bleak; a big slab of black stone with sharp edges.  Peter rubbed his finger along the corner and tried to focus his eyes. Someone was droning on, reducing the events of the last few days to dry statistics instead of bleeding, screaming children, collateral damage in the war. His head was throbbing, edges of his vision starting to dim and he wished they'd hurry the fuck up with the debriefing so he could go home. He lifted his hand and frowned at how badly he was shaking. There was no way he was going to be able to drive home and the thought of spending the night at the ZFT compound was as unpleasant as the last mission had been. People started standing up, conferring among themselves in hushed tones and he pushed back from the table. He was rather amazed that he made it out to the hall without stumbling.

She was leaning against the wall just outside the door, twirling her keys impatiently around one finger. She met his eyes, gestured with her head towards the exit and he fell in beside her. He let himself shut down then, let his mind go blank, just followed. He heard someone calling his name behind them, distant and unreal, and she silenced the voice with a glare. She held doors open for him, tucked him in to the passenger seat, pressed a Gatorade into his hands.

"Nick says to drink that."

He stared blankly at the bottle, baffled by the cap until she pulled it from his fingers and opened it. He drank, pretty proud that he could remember how to do that and she wove through traffic in a way that usually scared the crap out of him but he was too tired for fear. He was too tired for sleep, stared out the side window without seeing. He was too tired to tell her how awful it had been but she knew anyway.

At the townhouse Nick opened the door before she could get the key in the lock, worry and relief painted on his open face. He steered Peter into the kitchen and pushed him down into a chair. Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head back, slumping to rest his head on the back of the chair. Nick was moving quietly, motions deliberate to reduce the sound, stealthy as he was in the field. He was radiating calm and contentment and it helped some, eased the stabbing pain behind his eyes and quieted the lingering horror.

Olivia returned with sweats and a t-shirt and he changed in the kitchen. She kicked the pile of dirty clothing into the laundry room and slammed the door on it. Nick sat a bowl of soup in from of him.

"Here ya go. Eat that."

Peter managed a few bites before forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. Nick nudged him gently, bumping his knee into Peter's when he sat in the chair next to him. "Eat." He finished eating that way, Nick prodding him every few minutes until the bowl was empty and he was herded off to get ready for bed. He was starting to feel vaguely human again when he left the bathroom.

Olivia was already curled in the center of the bed. He crawled in next to her and his mouth twitched towards something resembling a smile as she wrapped herself around him. Nick switched off the lights and Peter was tucked between two warm forms, pinned with arms and legs, nuzzled with gentle lips and thoughts. He let the warmth of them drag him under, the evenness of their perfectly synced breathing lulling him to sleep.

He was in that misty place between dreaming and waking when the events of the previous days ambushed him, images of fire and echos of screams jolting him back to consciousness. He started at the little stars arranged in a spiral on the ceiling and tried to slow his breathing. Olivia's arm was flung across his stomach, tucked around his hip. Nick's arm was bent across his chest, hand resting loosely near her face. She murmured something about cake, babbling in her sleep, the torrent of thoughts rising to the surface of her mind. He nuzzled the top of her head, nosing into her hair. Nick blinked himself awake.

"You're supposed to be sleeping." Whispered, playfully accusatory.

Peter tried to shrug which caused Olivia to tighten her grip on him and growl a little in her sleep.

"Careful."

Peter snorted. "Not afraid of her."

"Yeah you are, dude." Nick laughed and snuggled closer. He looked up after a few minutes. "You want me to make you go to sleep?"

"Nah." Nick raised an eyebrow at him and Peter sighed. "Okay, fine."

Nick shifted, brushed his lips over the corner of Peter's mouth. Peter turned and their lips slid together and he just managed to murmur his thanks before blackness closed over him and he slept.


End file.
